She has wrath kept under tight leashes, this one.
The Prophets are sacred twins; two halves to complete the whole.
I wish this Prophet was more like her other half but no, she is a dark mother… a crow of ill omen. She emerged like a shadow breaking into a flock of starving ravens.
I heard her speak through the voice of another and she told me a story that was older than the stars.
I heard her pain as she spoke of old wounds that just never healed. I could not read what was in her eyes but they sent chills down my spine.
When her story finally ended, I asked her to stay a little longer and she politely refused. Without looking back, she said that she would come for me one day.
The beast was here all along…